Virtue to Vice
by Emiya Shirou
Summary: Here I am now. In this timeless prison locked in solitude. I am punished for what I have done. I killed, I murdered, I massacred. I did much more. Rated T for suggestive gore.


**This Idea flung up to me while listening the song: Virtue to Vice by Deathstars. I just had to write it down! Well, I figure you know the feeling.**

Have I not deserved my punishment?

Am I forsaken to be exiled from the world I once ruled?

Why this..cruel...suffering... why?

Why?

Where am I, actually. Still here? Still nowhere? Still locked and hidden from the face of the world?

No, I deserved it.

My face may never be seen in Hyrule anymore!

I need to suffer.

I am evil.

Bane of the holy gods, so little is my power now. Their light engulfed me, shut me down...I am never to see their light again.

The world has been rid of my presence. My name isn't even known. My existence has been erased from time. This is detoriating death. Where one evil man may seek salvation in hell, I may live my afterlife here.

How could such a puny little child have defeated me? This puppet, a mere tool I used to reach my precious. This triangle now engraved into my skin for uselessness itself.

No, he did not defeat me, he did not destroy me, he could never handle me.

I did.

From the moment I touched the pristine gold, I was doomed. The true me was sacrificed to the Triforce long before. The moment my ear received knowlegde about the presence of this treasure.

My lust absorbed me. My own ominous longing for ultimate power was something I could not hold against. The prophecy as the powerful King of the Gerudo Tribe had soon left me. This power was all I wanted. Yet in the end, the deluge of desires incinerated me. Leaving only a mere shell representing all but a king.

I don't know how I even managed to get inside that castle. How they accepted me as a chancellor. To call judgement upon the sinners, being evil incarnate himself.

I had come from far, had they believed. A Gerudo King was what I could not be for my predecessors had never even left the valley, nor had they ever been seen by a venturing Hylian. I was no Gerudo King anyway, not at all. Inside the Royal Family castle I would feast upon the loss of brave hardworking men behind everyone's back. Gluttony had made me go farther astray. I knew every single one of those working, screaming, frolicing, gossiping unfortunate souls would once perish by my hand.

And did they perish. Blood shat against the alley walls. Arms and legs were torn off. Entire bodies, dead or alive, were mercilessly ripped to pieces. Villagers desperately trying to escape obliterated by the surrounding fires. A ruthless me and my ruthless servants spared none. And even if we did, that sole survivor would wake up to nothing. Grotesquely did the ruined castle town embellish the way to my Tower. The tower I inhabited for the excess of eight years that it stood. I commanded an army of darkness' peasants. I was a mere wreckage of sloth entertaining myself by torture. Few beings survived the agonizing trip into my castle by the chains of the stalfos. Those miserable creatures rather killed the victim themselves instead of leaving the pleasure to me.

Blessed were the Hylians when the stalfos did not recall the pleasure of torture. A short trip to oblivion was a gift contradicting my own alternative.

Satisfaction was still far. I had dwindled the world down in misery. My vicious dictatorship left no trace of good to the land. Rebellion was easily suppressed. I pulverized the signs of disobedience. I let them live, the worthless peasants. There was no complacency in an empty kingdom. Suppression was a good thing. My wickedness kept it to a good balance. I murdered when I felt like it. It was a show of power and might, my avidity to kill, my nefarious vanity was enjoying the deathscreams of brutally slaughtered Hylians.

How I had loved that. It sickens me.

It was a parade of avarice ascending from my mind. My power was insufficient. My power was incomplete. The triangles I yearned for were still not all inside my grasp. The ultimate power was left distanced. The ongoing absence of it angered me. Only after seven years had the bearers of the crests of Wisdom and Courage come forth. Nearing the decade of bloodshed, a princess and a hero stood up. He came from the only place I could not think to reach. The Temple of Light. Yet, I vilified his little endeavour to bring down my sovereignty.

Until it came to the point that I had them both, the hero and the princess, at the threshold of my Tower. I had found my might over the kingdom diminishing. That Hero even cleansed entire areas of my influence. That small boy, that kid. He stormed my castle to begin a showdown against me. I envied him, the kid, but that power he possessed would soon have been mine.

Me, the King of Evil, battled him. My wrath had maximized. I would defeat him, destroy him, extirpate his subsistence. All his efforts would have been futile. This kid, he stood courageous. Such bravery I had never seen before. The courage that had before brought down hundreds and hundreds of my followers. The Triforce of Wisdom. It had been so close to my grasp. She had deceived me. My most loyal servant. Intelligent, sly, said a traitor of the mythical sheikah. He, she made me believe she believed in me. The odious opposite had she done. She aided the hero in it's quest. She saved sages.

All my Power, aided by the Triforce of Power, had I unleashed upon them. Yet, The Courage and The Wisdom brought it down.

Now am I here, committing to my vices. It is too late for remorse. I know. But still, it is the only virtue I will ever obtain. For when I return, when I escape the timelessness of this barless prison. Then I will imminently reign again. Then I will send darkness over the world again. Then I will make the land and the people feel my blistering vengeance. Then I will turn my virtue to vice.


End file.
